Sunday, November 9, 2014

In Time of Pestilence -- Thomas Nashe (1593)

The Triumph of Death -- Pieter Bruegel the Elder (1562)
 


ADIEU, farewell earth's bliss! 
This world uncertain is: 
Fond are life's lustful joys, 
Death proves them all but toys. 
None from his darts can fly;         5
I am sick, I must die— 
        Lord, have mercy on us! 
 
Rich men, trust not in wealth, 
Gold cannot buy you health; 
Physic himself must fade;  10
All things to end are made; 
The plague full swift goes by; 
I am sick, I must die— 
        Lord, have mercy on us! 
 
Beauty is but a flower  15
Which wrinkles will devour; 
Brightness falls from the air; 
Queens have died young and fair; 
Dust hath closed Helen's eye; 
I am sick, I must die—  20
        Lord, have mercy on us! 
 
Strength stoops unto the grave, 
Worms feed on Hector brave; 
Swords may not fight with fate; 
Earth still holds ope her gate;  25
Come, come! the bells do cry; 
I am sick, I must die— 
        Lord, have mercy on us! 
 
Wit with his wantonness 
Tasteth death's bitterness;  30
Hell's executioner 
Hath no ears for to hear 
What vain art can reply; 
I am sick, I must die— 
        Lord, have mercy on us!  35
 
Haste therefore each degree 
To welcome destiny; 
Heaven is our heritage, 
Earth but a player's stage. 
Mount we unto the sky;  40
I am sick, I must die— 
        Lord, have mercy on us! 




 

2 comments:

  1. That reminds me, gotta get back to work on that painting:
    "Gimee That Eyepatch"

    ReplyDelete
  2. Bout like so:

    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Ulm#mediaviewer/File:Charles_Th%C3%A9venin_-_Reddition_de_la_ville_d%27Ulm.jpg

    But with more grabbing, less Roustam.

    ReplyDelete